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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939561">If You Need to Hurt</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kydoimos/pseuds/Kydoimos'>Kydoimos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead &amp; Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>I have no idea what I'm doing, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Self-Harm, bottom!daryl, top!rick, what even is this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:27:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kydoimos/pseuds/Kydoimos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rick follows Daryl out of Alexandria one day, he doesn't expect to find his favourite hunter burning himself with a cigarette. </p><p>He decides that if anyone should make Daryl hurt, it should be him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>If You Need to Hurt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Gotta admit, I'm super nervous about this. Smut/relationships aren't really my thing, but I'm trying hard (ha) to get better at writing them.<br/>Thanks for reading, apologies in advance if I'm terrible at this &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Whatever Rick had been expecting when he followed Daryl out of Alexandria, it hadn’t been this. For weeks, he’d been plagued with a feeling that all was not well with the hunter of their group. He stole away when he thought no one was looking, tucking himself into isolated parts of the surrounding woods like a shadow melting into night. Rick knew that Beth’s death had changed Daryl, and he didn’t know how he could possibly make it right. He wanted, <em> needed </em>to know that the ways in which Daryl tried to sooth the grief wasn’t putting him in more danger than was necessary. </p><p>Rick had many fears, but one of the greatest was that his closest friend would one day slip outside the walls, never to return. </p><p>But no, he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to track Daryl down to a small, abandoned house a few miles from Alexandria. He hadn’t expected to see the contorted expression of misery on Daryl’s face as he crept through the open door.</p><p>He certainly hadn’t expected to watch him press a lit cigarette firmly into the crook of his elbow. </p><p>“Daryl? What are you doing?” Rick asked before he could stop himself. It was perfectly clear what his friend was doing.</p><p>“Rick! Shit-” Daryl had jumped about a foot, so distracted by inflicting scars on himself that he hadn’t heard Rick’s approach. “Why are you here?” Rick rebuffed the question with one of his own.</p><p>“Why didn’t you come talk to me about this?” Daryl turned from the accusatory edge in Rick’s voice, boots raising dust as he put distance between them. </p><p>“Didn’t think you’d get it.” He mumbled. Rick closed the gap in one, two, three steps. </p><p>“Oh, I get it. I might not like it, but I <em> get </em>it. If you need to feel the pain, I’d just rather you came to me for it.” Daryl glared at him through the crack in his eyelids. </p><p>“The hell are you talkin’ about?” He spat, backing up until he hit the wall. Rick kept advancing, a glint in his eyes that Daryl had come to know. Animalistic. Carnal. </p><p>“If you need to hurt,” Rick’s voice became a whisper in his ear. “I want to be the one hurting you.” The breath tickled the back of Daryl’s neck. He turned his head towards Rick’s lips, uncertain, watchful. His leader mouthed the words, “Just say yes.” </p><p>“I still don’t- I don’t know what-” his own voice felt husky in his throat. The rest of his sentence became lost, caught somewhere within the soft orbit between Rick’s lips. Daryl’s own parted before his confused brain had truly registered what was happening, as though Rick had taken him over by the simple act of kissing him. </p><p>A tongue introduced itself, but Daryl had only a moment to process this before it withdrew. Teeth grazed his bottom lip. They sank into his tender skin. Daryl gave a sound one-part yelp to two-parts moan. A bead of blood welled, only to be licked away. </p><p>Rick’s taste mingled with that of his own blood. His head was spinning when they broke apart.</p><p>“Yes?” Rick asked, chest heaving, eyes dark. </p><p>“Yes,” Daryl whispered. Their lips clashed once more. Rick wound his fingers through locks of Daryl’s hair, guiding him backwards. He staggered in his compliance, boots catching on the uneven floor. Rick guided him towards a dusty sofa, face now buried in the crook of Daryl’s neck. The hunter groaned as teeth sank once more into his flesh, the painful marks probed by a tongue moments later. “<em> Fuck </em>. Rick-” an arm curled behind his back to lower him down, and Daryl found himself looking up at Rick, wondering how he could feel so safe and yet so vulnerable all at the same time. </p><p>“Are you sure?” Daryl hands clutched fistfuls of Rick’s shirt. He pulled them closer, desperate again for the feeling that they were two parts made whole. Rick obliged, parting his mouth, letting free a breathy cadence. “Tell me,” he murmured. “Tell me you’re sure.”</p><p>“Sure.” Daryl’s body moved with Rick’s firm hands. On his front, now clawing at the striped fabric of the sofa, hips lifted over the armrest. Fingers tickled the skin of his neck, roaming his cheek. The middle one taps against his lip, slipping inside Daryl’s mouth. He accepts them with a hitch of breath. </p><p>“Suck.” Rick commanded. Daryl sucked, too far gone to give credence to the familiar rumble of shame in his stomach. More fingers trailed the length of his spine, leaving tiny jolts of electricity in their wake. The words mumbled around Rick’s digits were unintelligible when the caress slipped to his ass, but he seemed to understand the meaning of them. “Feel good?”</p><p>“Mmm.” Rick leaned in, pressing their bodies together. Daryl could feel the stiffness against his hip. When he felt a tug at his belt, his own hand moved to help without conscious thought. His pants dropped somewhere around his knees. The fingers slip from his mouth, leaving him feeling strangely empty. Rick yanked at his jeans, fighting with the knots of Daryl’s boots until those were kicked off too. A sigh melted into the air around them. “The hell are you waitin’ for?” Daryl grunted, crossing his legs at the knees. A firm hand pulled them apart again. </p><p>“Just looking.” Daryl snarled, trying to push himself up. “Where do you think you’re going?” The assertiveness in Rick’s tones halted him in his tracks. </p><p>“If you ain’t gonna-” The chuckle behind him wound Daryl’s irritation up to anger. </p><p>“I am. I will. When I’m ready.” Daryl’s retort was bitten off when the fingers gagged him once again. “Got too dry.” Rick muttered, leaning over him once again. “Make sure you make ‘em nice and wet, now. That’s it. Such a good boy.” Daryl gave a growl, unknowing whether it formed of anger or lust or maybe a little of each. “I know, I know. You’re just begging for it, ain’tcha? Got your ass in the air for me and everything.” Rick chuckled again. “You ready?” Daryl nodded feverishly, too desperate to feel fullness to fight against Rick’s words. The fingers vanished from his mouth. There was no time for Daryl to catch his breath before they were rubbing at his entrance. The roar in his head came out as another moan that would have mortified him at any other time. </p><p>“Please,” he gasped, pushing back against Rick. “Please.” </p><p>“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Daryl’s back arched as the first finger found its way inside him. His muscles rippled around the sensation. Rick pushed him back to the cushions, and Daryl could practically hear the grin on his face. </p><p>“Fuck,” he hissed again. “Fuck.” </p><p>“Yup,” Rick agreed. The finger stilled. “Why am I doing all the work here? C’mon, show me what you want.” Daryl gave a groan, rocking his hips back and forth with the best rhythm he could manage. The digit curled inside him, releasing something close to a howl. His dick was painfully hard, catching just a hint of relief from the motion against the sofa. As if Rick was reading his thoughts, he reached underneath Daryl to stroke the length with the back of his hand. The touch sent paroxysms of pleasure through him. </p><p>Just as he’d adjusted to the feeling of Rick -oh, god, <em> Rick </em>- inside him, a second finger pushed past his defences. Daryl kept pushing himself back onto them, legs trembling with exertion. Rick clasped a handful of one ass cheek, clenching just hard enough to hurt. He started to move his hand, finding his own path within Daryl’s chaotic dissonance. The fingers brushed against some part of him that gave the feeling of being dissolved like sugar in water. </p><p>“Rick,” it’s amazing how close it sounded to begging. “Rick, <em> please </em>.” </p><p>“What do you want, Daryl?”</p><p>“I- I-” he grunted with the effort of forming sentences. “Y’know-”</p><p>“I wanna hear it.” </p><p>“F-fuck. <em> Fuck </em>. Please, fuck me.” It was as though this was all Rick had been waiting for. The fingers pulled back, and a whine escaped Daryl’s lips without his control. </p><p>“It’s gonna hurt,” Rick warned, fiddling with his own belt. “I don’t have any lube.”</p><p>“Ain’t that the point?” Daryl heard Rick spit, imagined him working his dick with saliva. His own gave a twitch.</p><p>“Don’t touch yourself,” Rick commanded, again as though reading his mind. “Not yet.”</p><p>“Mhm.” </p><p>“Keep breathing.”</p><p>“Good <em> lord </em> , would you just-” Rick would never know what Daryl <em> just </em>wanted him to do, but the throaty, sultry moan elicited by pressing his member against the entrance suggested that he was somewhere around the mark. </p><p>“Ssh,” Rick hushed. “Take a deep breath.” Daryl took a breath. His muscles relaxed enough to allow Rick entrance. The feeling was- overwhelming. Too much. His head snapped back, only to find Rick’s teeth grazing against the skin of his throat. Daryl’s wherewithal to move in tandem with the thrusts disappeared somewhere in the tightness. Pleasure and pain fought for dominance, a crescendo of the most basic human instincts. “You feel so good- so tight. You alright?” Daryl could only drop his head and nod against the cushions. Rick lightened up on his momentum. “Talk, Daryl. Are you good?”</p><p>“Mhm,” Daryl replied swiftly, licking his swollen lips and trying again to push back onto Rick’s throbbing member. “Yeah, yeah. ‘m good. Please-” </p><p>“Please what?” Rick ran a hand through Daryl’s sweat-matted hair. “I think we’re past the point of not being able to ask for something, Daryl.”</p><p>“Mm-” Daryl let his head fall against the palm of Rick’s hand. A thumb caressed his cheek. “<em> Harder </em>.” The hand pulled him back by his hair. </p><p>“Sure?”</p><p>“Harder,” he repeated, as though it was one of just a few words he could remember. “Please.” Rick pressed his lips against Daryl’s, the briefest juncture of tenderness. </p><p>“Give me your hands.” Rick trapped Daryl’s wrists against the small of his back with one hand, using the other to hike up his hips. “Ready?” He didn’t wait for an answer. The abrupt invasion forced a slew of swears from Daryl, but Rick didn’t relent. </p><p>The fingers gripping his right hip felt firm enough to leave bruises. Daryl hoped vaguely that they would. It took a few seconds for him to notice that the pressure was curving underneath him. He shouted nonsensically when Rick’s fingers gripped at his hardness, touching him in ways nobody else could, all the while pounding into his ass with renewed vigor. </p><p>Rick came first with a loud moan, pulling out at the last possible second and releasing over the small of Daryl’s back, coating both their fingers in the apex of his passion. The feeling of warmth dripping down Daryl’s ass sent new waves of delectation through him, and with the abating thrusts he too let himself go. Rick pulled out of him, but Daryl felt too weak to make any effort to cover himself. He realised that the pressure was gone from his sticky fingers. </p><p>“Sorry,” Daryl could hear the heave of Rick’s chest in his voice. “Came on kinda sudden.” </p><p>“Yeah, no shit.” Rick’s fingers curled around his wrist again, guiding the hand towards Daryl’s mouth. He parted his lips without having to consider it, sucking the saltiness from his fingers in a way that made Rick moan again. </p><p>“Damnit. You look so beautiful.” With the lust receding, Daryl found the place his embarrassment had been hiding. </p><p>“Shut up, man.” He rasped. He tried to roll over, but Rick held him still. Something soft swept across his ass, making him jump. </p><p>“Just stop squirming for a minute. I’m only cleaning you up.” Daryl grumbled something inaudible. Rick only grinned as he ran the fabric down the crack of Daryl’s ass. “There.” He stooped to collect the discarded jeans, then helped Daryl to his wobbling feet. Getting the pants back on was a combined effort. They collapsed back on the sofa together, a damp collision of limbs and hard breathing. “You feelin’ better?” Rick asked, still panting. </p><p>“Yeah,” Daryl gasped, resting his head on the crook of Rick’s elbow. “Better.”</p><p>He was. </p><p>A whole lot better.</p>
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